Good
by Punch Sarcophagus. Avoid Raep
Summary: Not everyone could be truly bad at heart, and those who were, would receive their consequences. That is what he believes.
1. Steadfast

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A strong, tanned hand stroked the lush, shiny, fiery-looking fur lovingly. The vulpine creature purred its pleasure, nibbling at a bowl of brown food, created specifically for her. It was delicious.

"You did a great job today, Pixi," the man said, and then stood. He walked over to the other side of the massive Gym, and blew an extremely high-pitched whistle.

The ground shook, and rumbled as a great, stone snake burst through the ground. "Onix," the man greeted the creature, and its eyes smiled. It let out a barking, hard noise. Although Onix fed mostly on dirt and sediment, Brock's Onix had a strangely fierce appetite for sweets. Brock set down the large tray he had been carrying, which had a tall, expansive block of chocolate on it. Onix made a loud, moaning, call, a sound of delight, and it took a nibble of the gargantuan block.

Brock grinned, pleased his Pok'emon was happy, and his Golbat waddled over to him, chirping. The brunette picked it up, and petting the bluish creature's head, took it to the area where his lunch was. Geodude had already found his lunch, and was eating enthusiastically. Brock roughly rubbed its head, and the stony creature hummed with delight.

After his best friend, Ash, had defeated the Elite Four of the Kanto Region, Brock had returned to Pewter City to regain domain over his Gym. Since his father now cared for his little brothers and sisters, he had built a cabin on the outskirts of town, where he made a fantastic family dinner every Sunday, and where Misty or Ash visited him every few months.

However, he spent much of his time in the Gym, rather than in his home. His Pok'emon were well-trained, and the rock-hard reputation of Pewter City Gym was upheld with a fierce, but understanding, hand.

He had taken on a few tough young Turks lately, but only a few badges had been given out. Even though the regional tournament was an ongoing thing, most had stopped competing in the Gym Leader challenge due to the Team Rocket regime. Since the gang had fallen, many of its members had scraggled out into the public, and rashes of crime and unruly, random, gang violence had broken out.

Many trainers, rather than voyaging across Kanto, stayed home with their Pok'emon, protecting their livelihood from the current sprays of violence. Brock felt, however, that many of these random occurrences would die down, soon enough. Not everyone is truly bad at heart, and those who are will be taken care of. That was what he believed.

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	2. New Beginning

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He fell, and grunted loudly as he hit the ground. Great. Mud all over his nice, clean black shirt.. And his jeans looked shabby now, too. He pushed up, on wiry, strong arms, and jumped back up. He brushed some of the mud off, but some would have to be scrubbed off, later. The tall man started walking again, and made sure to watch where he was going, this time.

Green eyes looked into the hills. Pewter City wasn't far off, now. Maybe the rest of the day.. He could stay in an inn overnight, and challenge the Gym Leader there, tomorrow in the morning. The sun burned a red-orange as it set behind the mountain.

Three Pok'eballs hung from the belt he wore, and there were empty ones in his backpack. Along with some Super Potions, camping things, lunch materials, a little cash, and Pok'eFood. A bottle of water had been jammed into either side of the backpack, and his Pok'emon Training License hung around his neck, in front of a red card, that had been given to him as a warning to others.

'This man is an ex-criminal, do not trust him!' is basically what it flagged him as. If he didn't wear it in public, he'd be arrested. The sun reflected warmly on his lightly tanned skin, and created a dark shadow as he scowled. Since Team Rocket had disbanded, things had gone downhill, really.

He no longer had a travelling partner, and no real goals in life. He was 21; He could go to college, or get a layback job.. Neither of which he had to, of course; even though his family's wealth was built on criminal activity, they were still rich. He'd never need a job.

The purple hair glinted in the fading sunlight, and the low ponytail swished freely as the big, hiking backpack plumpled onto the ground. James had walked from Vermilion, and had been walking since before dawn. He'd have loved to stay at the Pewter City Inn, but his sleeping bag couldn't hurt. His legs hurt and all he really wanted was to lay down. Looking around, he saw an area with few rocks, and made his way over to it. Someone had camped here earlier; there was an old, blackened area where a campfire had burned in the last two weeks. James set up his site, quickly and efficiently.

He popped one of the Pok'eballs open, and his Machop smiled at him, saluting him as he exited the ball. A slim, warm-toned hand patted the Machop gently, and it stroked his forearm, lovingly. It pointed at the blackened circle, and asked, "Chop chop, Ma~chop?" and made a fire motion with its hands.

James nodded, and pulled out some rations for the night. He let out Weezing and Victreebel, and the mottled about. He got out a box of the Pok'eFood, and tossed one into Weezing's mouth. Victreebel, on the other hand, was under a tree branch that held a juicy-looking Caterpie. It swatted at it with thick, strong vines. James grinned a little, and pulled out a small pot, made special, and poured water in it. He put another pot atop it, that had many teensy, tiny holes in it. The slim fellow reached into the bag and pulled out clean, uncooked rice, and poured a little into the dry upper pot.

"Chop!" Machop declared, nudging James' shoulder.

"Hm?" James said, looking at the big, crimson-colored eyes. He glanced at the blackened ring, and a small tepee of kindling had been set up, perfectly. A few bigger branches were laying nearby.

"Thanks, Machop," James said, and handed Machop a cube of food. It popped the cube into its mouth, chewing with a content expression on its face. James got up, and used two matches to start the fire. Within five minutes, the sun was down, and the earth was cooling, but it was warm near the fire. James sighed and Victreebel slumped next to him, digesting the Caterpie.

The emerald-eyed man was holding the pot over the fire, and hen that arm got tired, he switched to the other. After he thought the rice was finished, he took out a camping skillet, small and compact, and meat that was cuddled next to an ice-cold Burn Heal. He expertly cooked the meat, and tossed in vegetables he'd bought from a man in Cerulean.

Finally, he mixed it all together, and ate hungrily. Of course, he shared half with Machop, and tossed a few more cubes to Weezing.

James sighed, patting his full belly, and leaned against Victreebel, looking at the stars.

Many years ago, Ash had laid in this spot, his head against the stump. Caterpie had looked to the same stars, telling Pikachu how it would evolve into a beautiful Butterfree, and then Misty would love him.

Many years ago, James had escaped from the clutches of Jessibell, and ran away from school with Jessie.. Joined Team Rocket.. Had done all sorts of weird and interesting (albeit illegal) things. And now... He was finally doing what he wanted.

Jessibell had wed some breeder guy.. And so, his parents weren't on his back, and let him do what he liked. And what he wanted to do was to take on the Pok'emon League Challenge, and win matches; fair and square. He wanted to be Pok'emon Master of the Kanto region, completely legally. And this was the first step, even if it was many years late for him. Machop was snoozing at his side, hugging his arm. Victreebel had fallen asleep, and was warm under his face.

Weezing was sleeping in his Pok'eball.

James sighed, as the flames began to flicker out.

His dream was just now becoming a reality, he thought, as sleep came.

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